God help me, it felt like going home.
More later.
|
|||||
Back35 comments to Back |
 Military members find information on homes for military by visiting Military Homes.com   |
||||
|
Copyright © 2010 Neptunus Lex - All Rights Reserved |
|||||
“Bloggerati”? Hey, I thought I was in the “avid reader” column? Gotta do a reassessment….
“home” in which direction, that is the question that will puzzle some…
But, but, but…did “they” know who you were?
God help me, it felt like going home.
I wondered if that might be your reaction, being a year out from retirement. Hope the balance was much more on the joy/reunion side than the longing side of things.
FbL;
I suspect, as is the case with many I know, and myself, the longing never leaves. The joy is always there, but you adjust, yet you still, in my case, look seaward (and in Lex’s upward) and know many will never know what you learned, and how you wish you could go there again.
Actually, as a ship rider for a contractor on a systems tests, the urge to jump in and “train” had to be held in check. It wasn’t my watch anymore. That was the biggest struggle.
I suspect, as is the case with many I know, and myself, the longing never leaves.
That was my guess, which is why my hope is simply that the joy of having had the chance to “go home” for awhile overshadows the inevitable longing when one must leave again.
Ah Lex,
The pangs of remembrance of a period of your life so very rich with experiences that few are privileged to know. Does the hawk on the glove desire for the bells and hood to be removed and to take free wing once more?
You were doing so well for the past year, and then you had to wake the dragon. But take heart—you will come to the point where sharing your new life with family will be as great a joy.
And you can shower as long as you like!
I know the feeling well! My last COD was a C-2A to the Indy in 92. I was not a happy camper on the way to Bahrain, my brother was visiting in Yokosuka, once strapped in and accelerating down the runway, I knew I was where I wanted to be.
Slight error on my part, the year was 1994 not 92.
The longing never leaves. It’s a hunger that waxes and wanes, but never goes away.
I can hear the sound of P-3’s overhead every day. It’s one that I anxiously await and dread to hear.
My watch, too, is done. A new crew mans the aircraft. That’s as it should be, I suspect, but still and all, I’d go back in a heartbeat if they’d let me.
You were never really ever in love, true love, if you don’t hear the siren’s call and turn a bit to listen to that faint whisper, that tug on your memory and your heart.
A miracle! Transformed in the back seat of a COD, looking aft.
Glad you had a great time!
…always does, always will.
Did they let you in a ready room or did you have to pretend you were a blackshoe?
Home is a place in the mind and spirit, not a spot on a geospatial image, within time.
Lex:
Don’t say you weren’t warned!
VR,
Comjam
Rooted ever so deeply in amongst the heart strings, never to be extricated from the depths of the soul, are the memories of such a large portion of one’s lifetime.
However gray the hair atop one’s head, the memories remain as black and white as they ever were…
Yeah, Tim, someone else has the watch now. But let them turn their head for even a second and we’d be back in the game. Forever in the blood…
Lex, dare we hope for peektures after? Hmm?
“Rooted ever so deeply in amongst the heart strings, never to be extricated from the depths of the soul, are the memories of such a large portion of one’s lifetime.”
How incredibly profound.
The best way I’ve heard it said. I intend to borrow it, with attribution. Thanks for the well stated words.
Thank you.
You’re very welcome to it.
Got to see it all again, but without responsibility on your shoulders. Kind of like your midshipman cruise.
Looking back on it, what would you tell yourself as a midshipman that it took you a career to see?
– Max
It’s been 22 years since I was on the boat. And I was only there for three and a half years.
I always thought the “siren song of the sea” was a pretty corny thing to say.
Now at 42, I fully understand. *sniffle*
Can’t wait to hear the story.
It didn’t take me nearly that long. I “got it” the first time I walked out onto the flight deck at night out in the middle of nowhere, with the ship’s lights turned down, and only the escorts visible on the horizon, and Carl Sagan’s “billions and billions of stars” above in the heavens.
My “boat” is parked downtown here in Sandy Eggo, at navy pier. I spent three years on the Midway, and go visit three or four times a year.
To quote xformed:
“I suspect, as is the case with many I know, and myself, the longing never leaves. The joy is always there, but you adjust, yet you still, in my case, look seaward (and in Lex’s upward) and know many will never know what you learned, and how you wish you could go there again.”
My exact sentiment.
I sometimes think in all the world
The saddest thing to be:
Old admirals who feel the wind,
And never put to sea.
I remember the lyrics, but can’t remember the artist or album. That album also had “Roads to Moscow” as well. Can you remember the artist and album?
“You don’t see the danger
Call me back
Call me back”
The album was “Past, Present and Future.” Al Stewart’s voice is like chalk on a cheese grater to me, but he writes very evocative songs of people in very different times and situations than ours. My own favorite on that album is “The Last Day of June, 1934.”
As Milton wrote:
Look homeward Angel now, and melt with ruth:
And, O ye Dolphins, waft the hapless youth.
And Wolfe’s:
You can’t go home again.
But I’ll bet 99% of us would feel the same way.
Me thinks you tend to notice the “not the way we did it” more than the “that’s a great idea”.
Safe returns.
Zane … That’s such a lovely verse of poetry, and so true. I read it to my husband, and we both teared up. Thank you for quoting it. I googled it and read the whole poem. Who is Al Stewart?
Marianne
Al Stewart, born in Scotland, is generally considered a British folk artist as the beginnings of his career took place while he lived in the Soho district of London. He now lives in Los Angeles.
The album Past, Present and Future, from which “Old Admirals” is the first cut, was his major introduction to U. S. audiences via the free-form FM radio of the day, as “Nostradamus” takes up the entire B-side of the vinyl LP.
Like the earlier Richard Harris cover of “MacArthur Park”, or Iron Butterfly’s “In-a-Godda-Da-Vida”, it was a staple for DJs who needed a smoke or bathroom break, but was well-worth the airtime in its own right and made his name here in the U. S.
I used to have the vinyl of that, maybe still do in a box, and Nostradamus certainly didn’t take up all of side two, only the last 8 minutes of it. But like Frampton’s “Do You Feel Like I Do?” it served a DJ’s purposes. Where did you get that snippet from?
I should add that it was his next album, Year of the Cat, that really broke him in America, and if you’re looking for an introduction to Stewart, that’s probably his most enjoyable album to listen to.
Al Stewart occupies a favored portion of my Ipod. And I think we met the same woman as in his Year of the Cat.
Not my favorite, but well written is Old Admirals; the lyrics here.
The salt, the spray, and the deep-blue water dreams never leave the true sailor, though the sailor may have left them all, many years ago.
I have a live bootleg from the 1970s where he tells the story behind Year of the Cat. It involves hippies, hashish, Morocco and a tour bus that didn’t wait. Stewart’s version is definitely a little more exotic.
I should add that my favorite feature of 1970s Al Stewart is the guitar playing of Tim Renwick, without which YotC would be so much oatmeal. Ironically, Al Stewart was such an unknown that he won a Grammy (or maybe a Guitar Player reader’s poll) for best guitar in 1976, when it was all Renwick’s work.
Surprised no one’s mentioned Constantinople yet, either:
Across the western world
The lights are going down
The gypsy armies of the evening
Have lit their fires across
The nether side of town
They will not pass this way again
So here in the night
Leave your home it’s time for running
Out of the light
I see the hosts of Mohammed coming
The Holy Sister bars her doors against the East
Her house has stood too long divided
The uninvited guests are breaking up the feast
She may not bid them leave again
So here in the night
Leave your home it’s time for running
Out of the light
I see the hosts of Mohammed coming
I’d say a good overview of Stewart can be had on “Live – Indian Summer.” As complex and involved as his songs and arrangements are, the live performances on this disc are damn near studio quality. A real amazing performance by all.
[...] hasn’t even started writing yet and already the comments are getting high order evocative. I’m getting the [...]
Chap,
I suspect it’s one of those “shared experience” things.
Did a DV trip three years ago. It’s a trip to be aboard a CV and not have to stand watches.
[...] he returned, he put up a one line post. In the comments, FbL wondered how his return “home” was. Response from others, those [...]